


let me see you stripped down to the bone

by notthebigspoon



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 13:36:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This started because he was jealous. Not that it matters how it started.</p><p>	What matters is the here and now. The here and now is Stew's hands on his ass, yanking Brandon closer as he draws him in for a biting, violent kiss. The here and now is Vogey biting his neck and grinding his hips against Brandon's ass. The here and now is awesome.</p><p> </p><p>Title taken from Stripped by Depeche Mode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me see you stripped down to the bone

This started because he was jealous. Not that it matters how it started.

What matters is the here and now. The here and now is Stew's hands on his ass, yanking Brandon closer as he draws him in for a biting, violent kiss. The here and now is Vogey biting his neck and grinding his hips against Brandon's ass. The here and now is awesome.

It's not like he'd been able to help the fact that he was staring. They're neither one of them hard on the eyes and they'd been all over each other. Brandon wanted that... or something like it. So far all he has is Brian Wilson when he gets particularly frustrated and when Brandon doesn't have any other options.

Stew had caught him staring and now... now he's grinding against Stew's thigh between his legs and arching his back as Vogey pulls his sweater up and over his head. He thinks that he should be doing something, tries to get his hands to stop shaking so that he can unbutton Stew's shirt. It's a little more difficult than it should be with Vogey turning his head for a kiss that leaves them both gasping for air. A sharp bite to his neck makes him whimper, hips jerking forward.

“Oh, y'like that, huh?” Stew snickers, working Brandon's jeans open. Brandon tries to say something but his jeans and boxers are around his thighs and one slick finger, he's not sure whose, is pushing in straight to the second knuckle and all he can do is gasp out a desperate whine. “Think our boy's a little kinky, Vogey.”

“Voyeur, pain slut, cock slut... wonder what else is on that list.”

Offended. That's what he should be. Or, he would be if he weren't whimpering and begging for more. Screw dignity. He doesn't need dignity when he's already being stretched wide by three fingers and he's got two mouths marking his chest, neck and shoulders. Dignity is overrated.

He's pushed to his knees, both of them slowly easing down with him. Stew is sitting on his knees and Brandon grips his thighs, god so broad and firm. His mouth is watering and he's breathing hard and Stew's stroking himself. He wants this so desperately but before he can get his mouth around Stew, Vogey's hand is fisting into his hair and yanking his head back.

“Ah ah ah. Have to tell us what you want first. Don't want to take advantage of you after all. Tell us you want it.”

Stew smirks, cupping Brandon's cheek and running his thumb back and forth over his lips. Brandon can't help wrapping his lips around the tip and sucking. Stew laughs, low and warm and clearly delighted. “Y'know, baby, if I knew this was what it took to shut the rook up, I'd have suggested we do this ages ago. C'mon Belt. Tell us what you want.”

“You. Want you.”

“Want me to... _what_?”

Nobody would ever believe that Vogey, Vogey the sweetheart who would bend over backwards and give you the shirt off his back to help you, could be this evil. Brandon has never been more turned on in his life.

“Please...” His voice is a low whisper, color flooding his face as he looks up at Stew between his eyelashes. He wants more. But he has the feeling Vogey will stick to his word, he'll make Brandon ask for what he wants. “Fuck me. Please, want you to fuck me.”

He feels Vogey's cock against him, blunt pressure and then filling him in one steady push. He doesn't get a chance to adjust, just feels the sting of pain as Vogey fucks him with hard, deep thrusts. This, this is what he wants, what he always craves since the first time Wilson got his hands on him. It's on the tip of his tongue to beg for more but then Stew is filling his mouth.

He's not going to be able to walk tomorrow. He's not going to be able to _talk_ tomorrow. When Vogey slides a hand around and down his stomach, grips Brandon's cock and jerks him off in time with his and Stew's thrusts, the only thing keeping him from collapsing onto the floor is the hand still on his hip and his own grip on Stew's thighs. 

When he comes, moaning around Stew and clenching around Vogey, he slouches. He rolls his hips back into Vogey's thrusts even though he feels like he's never going to be able to move again because hey, nobody likes a quitter. Vogey comes inside him and Stew comes on him, all over his face and jesus christ, add that to the list of things Brandon never thought he'd like but does in fact make him moan like a whore.

“Fuck... you're a fucking slut, baby g.” Stew pants, thumb swiping over Brandon's lips again. Brandon mumbles, smacking a his hand and struggling to get up. 

He makes it up on his knees and wobbles, slouching over again. Vogey catches him with a quiet laugh, rubbing his back, “Maybe you should rest a minute. That eager to leave us?”

“Didn't think... you'd want... me to stay.” Brandon pants and yep, he was right, his voice is completely wrecked, as raspy as if he'd smoked an entire carton of cigarettes and then screamed bloody murder. 

They don't answer, just laugh and strong arm him up, lead him to the shower on shaking legs. It's huge, fantastic, multiple jets and damn, Brandon is going to sex Vogey more often just so he can use the man's shower. Vogey laughs when he says that, tells him he's welcome to join them any time. And really, Brandon is totally going to take him up on that. Fuck Wilson, he wants the twofer.

“Don't tell him that, he'll want to come too.” Stew mumbles, kissing his neck.

“And?”

“The beard. Freaks me out.”

That's fair. The beard scares Brandon too.

He leaves, when he's dried himself off and gotten dressed. They kiss him before he leaves, but there's no intimacy, just a promise that if and when he does come back, he'll get a repeat performance.

He'll be back. Oh sweet Jesus will he be back.


End file.
